


i tripped on a cloud and fell-a eight miles high

by kristsune



Series: The Stranger and the Sky [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: First Meetings, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Stranger!Tim, alive!mike, and mike likes to use his powers for fun, aro!mike, both of these two love puns and innuendo more than i could handle, but i love them anyway, but its a headcanon ive developed and really love, but nothing really described besides kissing, its barely even hinted at, listen i just want them to be alive and happy okay, takes place sometime after the unknowing, the Vast is sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:46:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21677701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune
Summary: Mike has an unexpected encounter with a Stranger, with exciting results.
Relationships: Michael "Mike" Crew/Tim Stoker
Series: The Stranger and the Sky [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583236
Comments: 22
Kudos: 118





	i tripped on a cloud and fell-a eight miles high

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first off, this is dedicated to whoever coined the ship name 'skyak' because as soon as i realized it existed i was immediately inspired and had to do this. Thank you for this rarepair, i love them dearly, and i hope you (and everyone else) enjoys. 
> 
> Huge thanks to [Jesse](https://thebisexualmandalorian.tumblr.com/) and [bubble](https://thebubbledragon.tumblr.com/) for letting me rant on about this when i didn't have access to my laptop and needed to record it somewhere so i didn't lose my thoughts. <3 
> 
> Title is from Kenny Rogers - Just Dropped In because i just absolutely love that line so much.

Mike sat at the cliff’s edge, legs dangling over the brink, taking in the view of the valley; river snaking through like a small blue-green serpent. He was somewhere in western America, though he couldn’t quite remember where. After digging, and clawing, and scraping himself out of the Too Close I Cannot Breathe, he decided he needed to experience some  _ real _ wide open spaces, and where better to do that than America?

His eye was caught by a hawk circling over the treetops down below, so he was distracted, when someone walked up from behind and sat down next to him. There… shouldn’t have been anyone else at this altitude. He looked over at the newcomer to see a tall athletic man with dark, mussed, but still seemingly perfect hair, and an incredible jawline. The stranger also had, what Mike had initially thought were pockmark scars along his face and neck, disappearing below his collar, but they were too large, and too perfectly round. They had a familiar feel, but Mike couldn’t quite place where remembered them from. Another thing that sent alarm signals ringing in his mind was the obvious hand prosthesis that was incredibly lifelike, but far too Uncanny to be of mundane origins. 

Before Mike could teach this Stranger a lesson in respecting one’s privacy, and send him falling, or at least give him intense enough vertigo to leave him on his knees, weeping for a week, he spoke: “Beautiful view, isn’t it? Everything looks so small and insignificant from up here.” Mike was mildly surprised to hear another Brit all the way out here, but he had an admittedly lovely voice, and Mike was  _ just _ intrigued enough to hear more. 

“Tim.” He held out his prosthetic hand to shake. 

Mike raised an eyebrow, “No one ever teach you not to shake hands with the unknown?”

“What can I say, I’m the adventurous type.” 

Tim’s smile was… infectious, to say the least, and Mike found a small smile tugging at his own lips. “....Mike.” He reached out and shook Tim’s hand, it felt like solid wood, but (mostly) had the mobility a flesh and bone hand. It was unnerving, but not necessarily unpleasant. 

Mike couldn’t resist adding with a pointed look as he let go, “Nice hand you’ve got there.” 

Tim winked with slightly glassy, mismatched eyes, and wiggled his fingers. “Rather good, isn’t it? A souvenir of my ahh…  _ explosive _ contract termination from my previous employer.”

Mike huffed, “That bad?” 

“I couldn’t even  _ begin _ to describe all I had Seen for them. But my ex-boss believes I’m dead, so I’m finally  _ free _ .” Tim closed his eyes in pleasure for a moment, and Mike couldn’t help but relate. He understood what it felt like to finally be free of something you hated. 

Against his better judgement, Mike found he liked Tim, and wanted to keep him talking. “So what brings you out here? To America, that is, if not necessarily this altitude in particular.” 

“Well after receiving this,” Tim wiggled his hand again with a big grin on his face, “I told my new employer to sod off. I’ve earned a vacation. So here I am, on a kayaking tour of… wherever the fuck I want to go. And as for the altitude?” Tim turned to fully face Mike, “I like to aim high.”

Mike licked his lips; there was something in Tim’s voice that went straight through him, and Mike realized just how close they were to each other. The air felt charged, like just before a lighting strike, and Mike was surprised he couldn’t smell ozone in the air. He wasn’t sure who leaned in first, but one moment they were staring at each other, a few thousand miles above sea level, the next they were making out like a couple of teenagers worried they were going to get caught. 

Mike threaded his hands into Tim’s hair as Tim’s hands went to his waist. Suddenly Mike was being bodily lifted, and he felt a swoop of vertigo, not unlike that he usually only received from the Vast, as Tim situated Mike onto his lap. And it felt…  _ good _ . Tim’s solid presence in front of him, and the vast emptiness of the cliff’s edge behind him. 

“Got a place we could go nearby?” Tim asked between the trail of kisses he was leaving along Mike’s scar down his neck and over his collarbone. Mike was incredibly glad again of his choice to ignore the top buttons on his shirts for years now. 

“Depends, how do you - ah - feel about falling?” Mike’s breath hitched when Tim decided teeth were a good addition. To be fair, he was not wrong.

Tim hummed against Mike’s throat, “I’ve been known to go over a waterfall or two. You gonna let go?” 

Mike smiled as he tightened his grip around Tim’s neck and shoulders, “Not this time. Take a deep breath - if you still need to.”  
  
“I’ve got a better idea.” Tim kissed Mike deeply, taking his breath away in a way he hadn’t felt in a  _ long _ time. He kissed back as he leaned backwards, pulling them over the edge, and they were falling. 

Kissing at terminal velocity was interesting to say the least. But Mike was very accustomed to falling, and was able to maneuver them so Tim was underneath him, (if up and down could still really be considered a thing with no actual ground to speak of). Tim seemingly had almost no reaction to the Falling Titan except his grip tightened around Mike, but not to an uncomfortable degree, just enough to know he wasn’t letting go anytime soon. Which honestly felt nicer than he expected.

When Mike pulled them out of the Vast, they landed in the center of a large bed on the top floor of a very tall skyscraper with a 360 degree view. One of the  _ many _ perks about being associated with the Fairchilds, was that Mike had access to every holding, building, hotel,  _ whatever _ , that they owned, and they owned  _ a lot _ . Harriet had done some sound investing with Simon’s already considerable amount money years ago, and it had  _ really _ paid off. Mike took advantage of it when he wanted, but otherwise didn’t pay any attention to it. This particular hotel had been one of his favorite finds in America. The top floor was always free and waiting for him, and of course had the best view of the surrounding landscape. 

Tim grunted as they landed with a bit more force than strictly necessary.

“You did that on purpose.” Tim accused, slightly breathless, but didn’t remove his hands from Mike’s waist. 

Mike raised an eyebrow, “So what if I did?”

Tim’s smile went sharp, and instead of answering, he pulled Mike in for a biting kiss, and started to unbutton Mike’s shirt at the same time. “I’ve been dying to know how far these go.” Tim added between kisses, lightly tracing his scar down his neck and over his collarbone.

“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.” Mike punctuates with a bite to Tim’s bottom lip. 

Tim made a noise deep in his throat, which Mike could only describe as a growl, “ _ Deal _ .”

The difference between Tim’s flesh and Uncanny hands was significant, but both were quite pleasant, if in different ways. The way they traced over Mike’s scars, traveling the Lichtenberg figures not unlike he used to do so long ago. Flesh hand warm and soft, the Other stiff and unyielding, but no less gentle. Tim was actually surprisingly gentle over all, considering how…  _ enthusiastic _ he was. He never held Mike too tightly, or pinned him down, like he instinctively knew how badly that would affect him. Mike appreciated it more than he could ever say.

When Tim was satisfied with cataloging Mike’s scars, Mike finally got to do the same for him. He took a moment to actually appreciate the view  _ within _ the room once he finally got Tim’s shirt off, and he was not disappointed. The round scars that peppered his cheek and neck did in fact spread down over his upper chest and down one arm, but that wasn’t what really caught Mike’s attention. 

What took up the majority of Tim’s chest and stomach was a massive amount of what looked to be shrapnel scars. They varied in size from thin slivers to massive swathes of scar tissue. He must have been at ground zero when this had happened.

Mike’s hands stilled on his chest, thumb briefly swiping over a particularly twisted scar right over his heart, “You weren’t joking about ‘explosive termination’.” 

Tim huffed a laugh, “I most certainly was not.”

“I’m surprised the Stranger didn’t try and smooth it all out.” Mike realized it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words left his mouth. 

Tim’s mismatched eyes flashed, and his voice turned low and angry. “I  _ refused _ . This is  _ my _ body, I wasn't going to let it just take it away from me, and replace it with something  _ Other _ . They took enough of me as it was.” 

Mike’s eyes were drawn to Tim’s prosthesis, and saw the hard line of where it met flesh, his hand clenched into a fist. Mike felt… not great about bringing up bad memories for Tim, whether they just met or not. He had obviously been through a lot, and just trying to put it behind him, just like Mike was. The problem was, Mike was not very good at words or comfort, never had been. Hopefully something a bit more physical would work just as well.

He gently took hold of Tim’s fist and opened it, bringing it up to kiss his palm. Tim’s expression softened immediately, and he cupped Mike’s cheek. 

“Want to show me exactly what that hand is capable of?” 

Tim’s laugh, which could only be described as sultry, sent a shiver down Mike’s spine. He leaned in close and replied, lips brushing Mike’s own, “You better fucking believe it.”

It turned out, much to Mike’s surprise, that he  _ very _ much enjoyed the Uncanny. Well, at least this Stranger in particular, anyway.

\-------

Tim woke up alone in a strange, but comfortable bed, with a gorgeous view of the surrounding countryside. He stretched, feeling multiple bones (and not) pop, before he turned over to see a grey piece of paper crisply folded in half on the pillow next to him. He opened the note to see bright blue ink in what must be Mike’s handwriting; in all caps, and easy to read. 

Tim,

Sorry I had to leave, I tripped and fell into some work. Feel free to stay as long as you like. There is a car downstairs that will take you anywhere you need to go. (Hope you didn’t leave your kayak where we met, might take a while to get back there). I’m not great with this kind of thing, but if you ever want another tumble, in or out of bed, just let me know.

Don’t be too much of a Stranger.

-Mike 

Contact information was written underneath a small doodle of a Lictenberg figure. Tim smiled to himself. He was extraordinarily glad he decided to follow the ozone scent he picked up while hiking. Mike was utterly fascinating, loved puns nearly as much as he did, and was  _ extremely _ good looking. The electric feeling and breathlessness he got while they were together made Tim feel like he was truly alive, truly  _ human _ in a way he hadn’t felt since before the failed Unknowing. 

Tim rolled out of bed, found his phone, and saved Mike’s information before starting to get ready for the day. Maybe he would see if he could find any good rivers around here; something with a waterfall. If he hadn’t been addicted to that weightless, vertigo feeling before, he certainly was now, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset about it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to stop by and say hello over on [tumblr!](https://kristsune.tumblr.com/)


End file.
